Moonlight Lovers
by Priestess of the Myrmidon
Summary: Inspired by LANCELOTTRISTANBABY’s Valentines Day challenge. Bad title. Very different than my other work and cute, in my opinion, but then, everything with Tristran is cute, but not inappropriate. I swear. TristranOC Please read and review!


Title: Moonlight Lovers

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Inspired by LANCELOTTRISTANBABY's Valentines Day challenge. Bad title. Very different than my other work and cute, (in my opinion, but then, everything with Tristran is cute), but not inappropriate. I swear. Tristran/OC Please read and review!

Genre: Romance/General

Pairing: Tristran/OC

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, unless I wrote it and it's not from the movie. I am not so cracked in the head as to believe I do. If you think that and wish to sue me, I suggest you take a long walk off of a short pier.

A/N: Tristran is a little different from the movie, but I like him this way. Yummy. clears throat

A/N2: **So they didn't have Valentines Day back then. Sue me! Actually, please don't.**

A/N3: So she's a mary-sue. Bugger off.

**_Attention all! I am holding the Tristran Awards (link is here: http/ and I would love you forever if you nominated a story or volunteered to judge. Even if you don't, feedback on the website would be wonderful too! Thanks. _**

LANCELOTTRISTANBABY, I hate you! This particular plot bunny would not go away. grumbles

* * *

I still hear your voice, when you sleep next to me.  
I still feel your touch in my dreams.  
Forgive me my weakness, but I don't know why.  
Without you it's hard to survive. 

-**Cascada** (yes, yes, I know!)

* * *

He, hidden behind trees, simply watched her bathe in the river, his golden eyes riveted to her graceful and lithe form. Catlike the woman was, standing there, seemingly oblivious to the world around her,just relaxing in the chilly British water. 

Russet hair cascaded in down her back in wet ringlets, clinging to her as she washed, quietly humming to herself a song from her homeland.

She was a solitary creature, much like him, and her appearance was not unlike that of the moon. Dark hair, creamy, pale skin, and deep blue azure eyes cloaked beneath dark, long lashes. She held a queenly air about her.Her fragile look was ruined by the fierce and predatorial gaze in her eyes as they darted about, finally coming to a halt, resting on the hidden man.

"Mmm...won't you be joining me, Lover?" called out the woman, voice hauntingly musical. The Sarmatian knight chuckled slightly and emerged from the shadows of the trees. She always knew when he was watching.

She cocked a dark eyebrow, silently questioning him, as he stepped forwards. Her warm breath was evident in the frigid British night.

"Sadly, it occurred to me that I'm not appropriately clad to join you, my dear," he replied, "as I just returned but an hour ago from scouting. I cannot."

"I guarantee, Sir Knight, that you need a bath. Get in."

"Well then, I suppose it'll all just have to come off, won't it?" said he, ignoring the last statement of hers loftily.

She replied in kind with a seductive smile, and he smirked roguishly, akin to her own grin, in return.

He rested his weapons at the water's edge so that defense was but a few feet away.

Her eyes wandered appreciatively over his sculpted but slim upper body as he removed his clothing, hungrily picking up every detail as more and more tanned flesh was revealed. Along with his smooth skin, which was broken and interruptedwith old scars that had faded to be mere seams in his skin... and the new, pinker ones.

The Sarmatian slid into the water with a contented sigh. He rested against the rocks that lined the river bank, with eyes closed, as the water refreshed his body, making him shiver in the icy water, cleaning off dirt and grime, along with blood- both his and Woads'.

He looked over to meet her eyes, but could not find her. Then he found a pair of slim and talented hands beginning to massage his back, using the water to make his skin slicker so that her hands would glide smoother on his skin. The calloused hands worked their way up to his neck, loosening up his muscles slightly, reliving them of some of their previous tightness. He was always so uptight, and if it hadn't meant so much work for her, she would have found it to be rather amusing.

The woman stopped when she found a new scar, pink and freshly healed on his left shoulder. She ran her fingers over the light expanse ever so softly and hefound himself shivering slightly at her touch. And she then continued to massage most of his body.

When she paused from her work, he turned around and kissed her.

She pulled back to study her knight for a handful of short seconds.

She ran her hands though his dark, disheveled hair. She traced over his beard, flecked with a few grey hairs, his tattoos, his jaw line, leading down to his neck and Adam's apple.

A finger was placed on his chin and she pushed slightly so that he tilted his head back to give her access, baring his neck in a sign of entire and absolute trust. Her blue eyes darkened with desire, and she nibbled slightly on his neck, knowing what his reaction would be. His eyes flew to hers, but he then relaxed. He was always suspicious of her when she did that.

"So suspicious," she remarked idly. The corners of his mouth twitched, showing he felt some amusement at he words.

The woman enjoyed her sense of power over the dark knight, as she pressed her lips against his, softly, and then pulled back with a teasing smile. He growled at her playfully, a sound that came from deep in his throat. It was a sound that could almost be likened to that of an animal's.

She gazed at him under her lowered lashes, and he smirked at her.

"Love," said she. "Be a chivalrous knight and pass me my clothes, will you?"

"So this is what I'm reduced to?" he said in his unique voice. "Being your servant?" He pretended to be drastically wounded, clutching his chest dramatically. "Ah, you hurt me so!"

She chuckled quietly in return and then stopped as she saw his eyes glance at her clothes and then return to her, gauging, she realized, the distance between them.

"Leaving me here, without my clothes, or throwing them into the water, is _not _developing a sense of humor, Love." The man looked at her innocently as if to say, 'Who? _Me_?'

Isolde waded over to Tristran to dissuade him from abandoning her with wet and soggy clothing, or in an even worse case, without any at all. Her love could be downright cruel in his jokes if he so desired to be.

She pressed her lips to his, and then pulled back but a finger's width. The Irish woman opened her mouth to speak as the scout cocked an eyebrow, posing a silent question again. She smirked slightly and breathed onto his lips: "Happy Valentines Day, Lover Boy."

* * *

Well? Review, you'll make my day! All reviews are loved and appericiated -including constructive criticism- just no flames! 

**_Attention all! I am holding the Tristran Awards (link is here: http/ and I would love you forever if you nominated a story or volunteered to judge. Even if you don't, feedback on the website would be wonderful too! Thanks. _**

Priestess


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